Dancing Cheek to Cheek
by chasinglaughter
Summary: A collection of unrelated moments that mean nothing and yet everything.
1. let's start again

**A/N: Heyy. I'm jumping on the drabble bandwagon and starting my own drabble collection, and voila, this is the first drabble.** :)

They stand, facing each other, staring.

"Potter," she says, still in shock. "You're Head Boy?"

He grins lazily, hazel eyes both serious and full of mischief at the same time.

"No need to sound so surprised, Evans."

She smiles. "Why don't you return that badge to Remus?"

"Really, it's mine." He laughs loudly, and she realizes that his laugh is contagious.

"I don't believe it."

His laugh stops abruptly. "I've changed, Evans, can't you see that? I've really changed. I stopped hexing people for no good reason, I stopped picking on Snape, I've minimized the pranking, hell, I actually study now!"

He looks so pained at his last statement that she laughs.

He puts his hand on her shoulder. "Look, I know that we didn't exactly start off our Hogwarts years the best of friends, and I know that I've been an absolute prat, but I was hoping that we could start over. Pretend that all the horrible things that happened in the past didn't happen. Clean slate and all that."

She looks at him, considering. "Who are you and what have you done with James Potter?"

He chuckles. "I've changed, Evans. All for you."

Those two sentences are spoken with an emotion she can't quite place, and she shivers, a little frightened of the intensity she sees in his eyes.

Slowly, she nods. "All right," she says solemnly. Then, she grins. She holds her hand out. "I'm Lily."

He stares at her hand, confused.

She rolls her eyes. "If we start over, then we call each other by our first names. I'm Lily."

He shakes her hand, smiling. "I'm James. Nice to meet you, Lily."

She withdraws her hand, and gives him a bright smile.

"You too, James."

**A/N: I was gonna post another drabble first originally, but since it's the new year (happy new year, btw), I thought this drabble was symbolic of it. New beginnings and all that.**

**Oh, and before I get sued, this drabble stemmed from one of the scenes in my fic posted here in FFN, How The Wizarding World Was Saved, which is on hiatus, because I have writer's block. How sad. So they're both very much similar, but they're both mine. :)  
**


	2. stay with me tonight

**A/N: Here's the second drabble, significantly shorter than the first. :)  
**

_I was born to tell you I love you_

_And I am torn to do what I have to_

_To make you mine_

_Stay with me tonight_

_ - Your Call; Secondhand Serenade_

Lily opened the door noiselessly, peering into the room. She could see the tuft of black hair that lay on his pillow, on the bed closest to the door. She walked inside the dormitory, shutting the door behind her quietly. Sitting on the edge of his bed, she hesitantly brushed his bangs off his forehead. He stirred.

"Lily?" He murmured.

She shushed him, putting a hand on his arm.

He yawned, reaching for his glasses. "Lily?" He said again, sitting up, hazel eyes thick with sleep. "What's going on?

"Nothing," she said. "I don't even know why I came here; I just couldn't sleep. I'm sorry that I woke you up. I'll go now."

She stood up to leave, when his hand encircled her wrist.

"Don't go," he said quietly. "Stay with me tonight."


	3. just the way you look tonight

**A/N: In a fit of inspiration - and boredom - I wrote a few bits and pieces for my dribble drabbles. Frank Sinatra is my favorite singerrr. :)**

"All right, Evans?"

Lily groaned, recognizing the voice of James Potter. "Potter, I have a horrid head cold, my nose is red, my hair is a birds' nest, and I feel like hell. Do I _look_ alright?"

"Actually, Lily," James said, looking at her earnestly. "I think you look beautiful, like always."

_And I love you just the way you look tonight_


	4. fly me to the moon

"Sirius?"

"Yeah?"

She hesitates, unsure about asking her question.

"C'mon, Evans, I don't have all day."

"Does James really love me?"

He lets out a loud laugh that echoes and bounces off the walls of the corridor.

"Are you kidding me? He talks about you like you put the stars in the sky."


	5. like an amazonian tree

**A/N: Not too sure about this one, but I saw a banner with the amazonian tree quote and couldn't resist.**

"Lily?"

"What now, Potter? Another pickup line?"

He chuckled. "Of sorts."

She sighed. "I won't get any peace until I hear it, will I?"

"Nope."

"Right, let's hear it. Make it quick, I've still got to finish this essay for Flitwick."

"I've fallen for you like an Amazonian tree."

She looked at him blankly.

He smiled.

"Hard, fast, and although unnoticed by the world's population, not without great consequence."


	6. ever since you've been around

******A/N:** This was inspired by a really cool icon. :)

"Where are you taking me?"

James grinned, continued to lead her by the hand down the corridor. "We're going for a ride on my broom."

She stopped. "Are you mental, James? It's one in the bloody morning!"

"Lily," he said, turning to face her. "We'll be graduating in a month, leaving the safety of Hogwarts, joining the Order of the Phoenix, fighting against Voldemort."

He kissed her forehead lightly.

"Let's just spend tonight on top of the world."


	7. try too hard

He's laughing again.

His laugh is so loud and so rough and just so _full of life_, that it's hard not to notice it.

In fact, she thinks that you'd have to be deaf not to hear him when he laughs.

She looks up from her Charms essay to watch him, sitting by the fire with his mates, playing a game of Exploding Snap. His eyes meet hers and he winks at her. She blushes and looks down, ignoring his greeting.

A few days later, after she shouts at him to _leave her the bloody hell alone and get a life_, and he looks like he's finally shattered into pieces, she thinks that she would answer his every greeting and laugh at every cheesy joke he made, as long as he could laugh again.


	8. an eternity without it

She's laughing again.

Her laugh is torture to him. It's high, and melodious, and just so _carefree_, that it could lift the spirits of anyone who heard it.

He thinks that if he heard an angel laugh, it would be exactly like hers.

He looks up from his toast to admire her, chatting animatedly with her friends, making eating scrambled eggs look like an art. Her eyes meet his, and she looks down guiltily. He stares at her, the girl that broke his heart last year and was feeling bad about it now.

A few days later, after her parents die in a car crash, and she looks like the world had ended, he thinks that he'd never look at her for the rest of his life as long as she could laugh again.


	9. into the rush

He watches in disbelief as she sits in the Quidditch hoop, legs swinging. She sees him and waves, grinning happily. He wonders if she is drunk.

"Lily!" He shouts, getting on his broom. "I'm coming to get you; you might fall – "

The words are barely out of his mouth when she pushes herself out of the hoop. He kicks off the ground, rushing to catch her fall. No matter how good of a flier he is, though, he is still far away from her as she nears the ground.

She lands lightly on her feet. His jaw drops. She smiles up at him innocently.

He always knew she was gifted, if not a little crazy.


	10. there is

Lily Evans was wearing mismatched, knee-high socks.

In the dullness of History Magic, this fact had James Potter staring, fascinated, at her feet. Her left sock was scarlet; her right sock was gold. She seemed to sense his eyes on her, and so she looked up, their eyes meeting.

He gestured to her socks. She laughed.

"Couldn't find a matching pair," she whispered with a wink. "My story is that it's for House pride."

At lunch later that day, everyone watched as all the Gryffindor girls entered the Great Hall wearing mismatched socks. No one noticed Lily Evans laugh and kiss James Potter on the cheek.


	11. hearts are often broken

She was talking to _him_ again.

She always talked to that Hufflepuff prat Malcom now. Never him, James.

So he stopped looking at her. He stopped talking to her. He stopped writing notes to her during class. He stopped smiling at her. He stopped _caring._

(Although secretly, he still did for her.)

He didn't think she noticed.

She did.


	12. by words left unspoken

He wasn't looking at her again.

He never looked at her now. Not anymore.

So she stopped wearing makeup. She stopped raising her hand in class. She stopped attending Quidditch games. She stopped going to Hogsmeade. She stopped _caring._

(Although secretly, she still did for him.)

She didn't think he noticed.

He did.


	13. i'm so glad i found you

lo"Lily."

She groaned, pushing the person who had shook her awake away.

"Go _away_."

"Lily."

She rubbed her eyes blearily. "James, I want to _sleep_."

"But Lils, how can you sleep at a time like this?"

"It's – " She rolled over and glanced at her alarm clock. "Twelve midnight; I think I'm well within my rights to be asleep right now. Especially when we have a big History of Magic test in a few hours."

He took her hand and pulled her up. "Not when I just discovered a radio station that plays the Beatles!"

She buried her head in her pillow. "As much as I love the Beatles, they can wait, James – "

"Lily." He stopped trying to drag her out of bed, putting his hand on her back. "Stop thinking. Just _live_."

She hesitated, moving on her back to look at him.

Later, as they sang and danced on the Astronomy Tower, she thanked Merlin that she had met James Potter.


	14. you make it as easy as 1234

_There's only 1 way 2 do_

_Those 3 words 4 you_

_I love you_

_~ 1234, Plain White Ts_

"Five points if you can hit his nose."

Sirius grinned and threw a crumpled ball of parchment at Binns, then put his arms behind his head. They watched as the ball went straight through his nose. The ghost professor didn't notice, although everyone else in the class did.

"Easy. Ten if you can hit his ear."

"You're on."

James picked up another parchment ball and aimed it towards Binns. As he flicked his wrist forward to throw it, Sirius poked his side, causing him to flinch. James watched helplessly as the ball veered to the left and hit a familiar mane of dark red hair.

He swore under his breath as Sirius let out his bark of a laugh.

"You're in trouble, Prongs."

Making a mental note to curse Sirius as soon as possible, James gulped as Lily Evans turned around in her seat, green eyes impassive.

He ran a hand through his hair nervously and sent a disarming – at least, he hoped it was disarming – smile her way. She blinked slowly and faced the blackboard again. He groaned, certain she was going to raise her hand and tell on him.

He was surprised when a folded piece of paper flew towards him. He opened it and grinned as he read her note.

_Fifteen points if you can hit that mole on the side of his neck._


	15. i like you just the way you are

"Ready for our grand entrance, Lils?"

Lily spun around to see her boyfriend standing in the doorway, looking dashing in his navy blue dress robes.

"I am," she replied, walking over to him. "Nervous, though – "

She stopped in the middle of her sentence and moved back to look at him properly, astonished.

"James," she said slowly. "Is your hair actually _under control_?"

He grinned proudly. "Took me an hour to make it lie flat, but I finally managed it."

"That's great, but…" She moved forward and ran her hands through the black locks, mussing it up. "I like it much better this way. It makes you more… _you."_


	16. like a comet pulled from orbit

**A/N: **Here's something to tide you guys over as I battle the period of time we call Hell Week. You might not hear from me 'til after exams, which end on March 20. Although Filipino's becoming even more boring than I thought possible, so maybe more drabbles to come before then.

I discovered this in my Recycle Bin. Fixed it up a little, and I go through stages of liking it and hating it. So, let me know what you think, review! :)

_Like a comet pulled from orbit as it passes the sun_

_Like a stream that meets a boulder halfway through the wood_

_Who can say that I've been changed for the better?_

_But because I knew you, I have been changed for good_

_ ~ For Good - Wicked_

-----

_Something's changed, _you think, looking around the usually noisy common room. Your green eyes alight on a familiar mop of raven black hair.

He is hunched over a thick book, flipping the well-worn pages. His brow is furrowed, hazel eyes intense with concentration as he copies something onto a roll of parchment. His friends, save for Remus, are playing chess, ignoring the dark looks sent their way (mostly by you) during their boisterous fits of laughter. You see him look up and smile at Sirius and Peter, who are shouting at their chess pieces. You wait for him to put his parchment away and close his book.

He doesn't.

Instead, you hear him shush his friends and tell them to be less noisy. You stare, enthralled by this new mature, responsible side of him. He looks up and sees you watching him. Green meets hazel. He smiles at you hesitantly.

Slowly, you smile back.


	17. waking up to your perfume

**A/N: **Filipino was so boring today, I had to write something. :)

_It's four AM, I'm waking up to your perfume_

~ _Half Alive, Secondhand Serenade_

He is vaguely aware of her body under his arm, their legs messily tangled together. Yawning, he brushes his lips against her ear.

She stirs, and he buries his face in her hair, inhaling the scent of rain and lilies that is so _her_.

"Go back to sleep," he whispers.

She grabs his hand, curls her fingers around his, and moves closer to him.

He smiles faintly as he presses his lips to her hair.

In that moment, there is no war going on. The Death Eaters do not exist. Voldemort is no one.

In that moment, everything is perfect.


	18. you leave me speechless

**A/N: A simple haiku made during Filipino. :)**

We walk in silence

Shyly brushing our fingers

Exchanging glances


	19. you & me & all of the people

**A/N:** Warning: written while watching a Ferdinand Marcos documentary in Social Studies. Therefore, it might not be very understandable.

Ahahaha, I warned you lot about me posting at Unknowable Room first. This was posted over at UR yesterday, and then I forgot to post it here. Tsk.

----

The Quidditch Pitch is a blur of noise and colour.

She is laughing as the roaring sea of scarlet and gold rise as one when their Seeker's hand closes around the Snitch. It's freezing, but she and her fellow Gryffindors don't care as they scream and cheer and dance.

Chanting the ridiculous victory song Sirius made up, she looks at the huddle of bodies clad in red Quidditch robes suspended in mid-air, searching for the familiar mop of black hair.

As if on cue, he turns his head towards her, meeting her eyes and grinning. With a motion of his hand to his teammates, they speed away from the middle of the pitch to a fresh round of cheers and applause from the stands. She claps along with the crowd, waving at James as he leads the Gryffindor Quidditch team in a victory lap.

She is surprised when he heads towards her seat at the very top of the stands, pulling his broom to a stop a few inches away from her. He holds his hand out, trademark Marauder smirk on his face.

"Hop on," he says.

She stares at him incredulously.

He laughs.

"Really, Lils." He grabs her hand. "Did you honestly think that I would take my victory lap without my _real _victory this year?

_It's not who you are to the world, it's who you are to me._

_It's not how many times I say I love you, it's how much I really do._

----

**A/N: **Quidditch Cup Championships!

I have a love/hate relationship with this one. Tell me what you think! :)


	20. i'd do anything for you

_**A/N: My penname is now Chasing Laughter. See my profile for more details. :)** _

_Well, it's been a while. O_O I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Here's a peace offering. Originally, I had two drabbles to post here, but after uploading them, I decided the first one was bad, so... *grins* I promise I'll write more once I get over this damn writer's block. :D Now, enjoy!  
_

She smiles sweetly at him as he hands her a cup of chocolate ice cream.

"Thanks for getting this for me from the kitchens," she says, taking the spoon he holds out for her. "I love ice cream."

"Anything for you, Lily," he replies with a grin, before telling her about Sirius' latest mishap. He leads her out of the castle and around the lake, chatting and laughing.

She finishes her ice cream quickly and lobs it at a rubbish bin. James whoops as it goes in.

"You really should've been a Chaser," he says wistfully.

She snorts. "And have to wake up early for your bloody Quidditch practices and dodge scary black balls? I think not."

"It's _fun_," he insists.

"If you say so," she teases, rolling her eyes. She rubs her shoulders and shivers.

"My hands are cold now."

He pulls her hand off her shoulder, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

"Yeah," he says seriously, looking into her eyes. "Yeah, they are."

Later, as they walk back to Hogwarts, he still hasn't let go.

_**A/N:** I hope you liked it! It's been ready to be posted for a month, but I procrastinate even more during summer hols. Anyway, I have a new fanfiction called **Spin**, which I will be posting as soon as I've posted this. Please, check it out? I've been working hard on it._

_Also, I need some fanfic recommendations! Preferrably James/Lily and Teddy/Victoire, but I'm so bored that I'll read anything. :)  
_


	21. we can't stay like this forever

**A/N: **_Oops. This drabble was posted over at The Unknowable Room - the link is in my profile ;) - a few weeks ago, and I keep on forgetting to post here on FFN as well. I promise I won't forget next time! :)_

They are in a cramped, dusty room. It must have been a broom cupboard of sorts once, Lily thinks. Now it was just a forgotten cobweb-filled, out-of-the-way closet in an abandoned warehouse. She shakes her head slightly, trying to clear her head. She doesn't even know why the original purpose of their hiding place crossed her mind in the first place.

Behind her, James is silent, trying to keep still. Certainly a hard task for him, she thinks wryly. James can't stay still for very long. Just as she thinks this, he starts playing with her hair, his fingers sliding through the dark red locks. She almost smiles at the familiar gesture, before realizing that it might be the last time her fiance's fingers run through her hair.

"James," she whispers, suddenly afraid. Strange, the pair of them had been in danger many times before this moment. She thinks she has never been as scared as she is now.

"Lily." A murmur that sends chills down her spine. Even after all this time, he still has the same effect on her. She leans back slightly, resting her head on his shoulder.

He says her name again, this time with a tone of apprehension. "Lily…We can't be caught unprepared."

She grips her wand so tightly that her knuckles turn white. At least, she thinks they've turned white. She can't see anything in this dark, dusty room.

"We won't." She says this in a tone firm with conviction that she cannot feel, although she desperately wants to. "We'll get through this alive, just like we've done before."

She can feel him tense. "We've never had to face Voldemort alone and outnumbered, love."

"I don't care!" She whispers fiercely, painfully aware of the danger that lies outside of their temporary haven. "We'll make it, James. The both of us, we'll make it. We have to."

His breath hitches as she grabs the hand still fingering her curls and places it on the ring finger of her left hand, the hand that is clutching her wand. He runs his fingers across the simple ring he gave her a few months ago. She turns her head slightly, brushing her lips against his.

"Lily," he sighs, and she can hear the worry and the frustration and the fear and the _love _somehow all conveyed in that one word. She kisses him lightly again, telling him not to worry and that everything was going to be alright in a simple gesture.

He opens his mouth to speak when they hear heavy footsteps coming from outside. Quick as a flash, his hand leaves hers. She can feel his body tensing again. Even though it's possibly one of the most foolish things she could do in this moment, when time is crucial, she quickly presses her lips to his once again. She savours the moment, embedding the memory into her mind forever, knowing that it might be the last time she will ever kiss James Potter.

**A/N: **_I hope you liked this deviation from my usual fluff! I'm in the middle of writing a sort of follow-up from James POV, but my summer hols end in two days, and I just got Sims 3 and am having a lot of fun with it, so no promises that it'll be up soon. I'll try my best, though. :) _


	22. but i can have you next to me today

**A/N:** Here's my longest drabble yet (950 words!), a continuation of the previous drabble in James' POV. Sorry for the delay in writing and posting; school started second week of June and things are pretty hectic. Anyway, it's a bit wordy and rambling and maybe a little bit confusing (like I am at the moment, I imagine), so I'm sorry if it doesn't make much sense. Bio homework's killed my brain. Please review; hope you like it! :)

**-&-**

She brings his hand to the simple gold band he gave her a few months ago, the night he proposed to her. He can't see it, so he contents himself with feeling it, feeling the physical symbol of his love for this fiery girl with almost-too-bright green eyes sitting in front of him. She turns her head towards him, her red curls brushing his cheek, and kisses him lightly.

_Lily. _Her name comes from his mouth in a quiet murmur. He loves saying her name. Usually, it's so light and cheerful and _natural_ on his lips. In this moment, though, it's anything but light and cheerful, and Lily senses it. He can imagine her in the dark, green eyes glittering in fear and concern, the hand wearing his ring gripping her wand tightly.

Another brush of their lips. He knows that they shouldn't be doing this, sneaking kisses in the middle of a virtually inescapable Death Eater safehouse. He doesn't care, though. He knows that this might be the last time he will ever kiss Lily Evans; and damn Death Eaters and being outnumbered and Voldemort to hell if he doesn't take the opportunity to feel her lips under his for the last time. He opens his mouth, struggling to say something, _anything_, to try to put the magnitude of his feelings for her into words.

Footsteps from outside the door. He brings his hand away from hers, preparing himself to send a curse if the door opens. Different spells are running through his mind as he debates which one to use if they are discovered. The footsteps are louder, heavier, closer. He tenses up even more when Lily's hair brushes against his shoulder. He feels her lips on his once again.

_What the hell is she doing_? He is about to push her away – there's a fucking Death Eater right outside the door, for Merlin's sake – when she whispers against his lips.

_I love you, James_.

And his heart swells, filled with so much love for her that it might burst; and he is reminded of all the reasons why he decided to fight Voldemort, all the reasons why he had pledged his service to the Order of the Phoenix, all the reasons why he and Lily _had _to make it out of this horrid place full of misery and death.

_I love you, Lily._

If anyone asks him, he says he's doing this, fighting against Voldemort, because it's the right thing to do. It's true, but if he's being completely honest, it's not the real reason he's fighting.

He's fighting for his friends. For Sirius, who lost his family to the war. Not literally, of course, they're still alive – but then again, they're dead to Sirius. For Remus, who can't find a job because of all the prejudices and distrust and hate towards werewolves since the start of the war. For Peter, who has gone from cheerful and optimistic to paranoid and frightened, constantly looking over his shoulder wherever he goes.

He's fighting for his parents. They've raised him to be pro-Muggleborn rights, to treat everyone the same way, regardless of blood. They've supported him through everything, through all the letters from Dumbledore, through all the pranks he and Sirius pulled, through his decision to become an Auror. They've treated Lily like a daughter ever since he brought her home that first Christmas.

And, of course, he's fighting for Lily. Since their first year at Hogwarts, he's watched her stand up for herself and other Muggleborns – and yet, for some reason he doesn't quite understand, remained friends with Severus Snape – and prove to the world that Muggleborns are just as good, if not better, than purebloods. He watched Snape call her a Mudblood in their fifth year, and watched as she held her own and didn't let anyone see how hurt she really was. He comforted her in seventh year when she broke down and told him of how her sister refused to talk to her and how her parents were scared out of their wits because of the war in the world they had no part in.

He's fighting for his Squib cousin. He's fighting for Mary McDonald, who, at fifteen, went through things under the hands of Death Eaters that no one should ever go through. He's fighting for Sirius' favourite cousin, Andromeda, who had to run away and stay in hiding, just to be with the man she loves. He's fighting for anyone and everyone who's suffered because of the war.

The footsteps stop outside the door of the closet. He kisses Lily one more time, and points his wand towards the door. He hears the knob of the door being turned, and the cursing of the Death Eater as he tries it again. James knows it's only a matter of time before the Death Eater uses his wand to blast through.

The rattling of the knob stops. He can feel Lily tensing in front of him. He wants to reassure her, wants to comfort her, wants to kiss her, but he knows that the best way to get out of here alive is to take the Death Eater unawares.

He imagines the Death Eater stepping back from the closet, grumbling, as he points his wand at the door, when Lily's quiet murmur disrupts his thoughts.

_James, I'm pregnant._

The door is blasted from its hinges. With newfound determination, he sends a curse at the Death Eater and runs out of the closet, taking Lily by the hand with him. And as they run into a group of Death Eaters down the corridor and start duelling, he thinks, _Now I have another reason to fight._

_**-&-**_

**A/N: **Tell me what you think, please review! =D


	23. drowning in your eyes

**A/N: Sorry for the delay! I've had this one typed up for ages, but my computer wasn't working properly and I wasn't able to touch the file until today. So here's drabble#23. Please review and tell me what you think!**

**-&-**

He leans on the ledge of the Astronomy Tower, staring at the blending of colours in the sky as the sun sets. Behind him, the wooden door opens with a creak, and then closes. He smiles as he feels someone walk to his side.

"James." Her normally sweet voice is strained. It's understandable. Her best mate's boyfriend's just been killed by Death Eaters. He turns to her, pulling her into a hug. She buries her face in his shoulder, and he breathes in the scent of her hair, the scent of lilies and rain and grass. He is rubbing her back absent-mindedly when she pulls away suddenly.

"I can't do this anymore."

"You can," James tells her firmly, reaching for her hand. "We can do this, Lily. We'll win this war. We'll make it through, I swear."

He doesn't know what to think when she pulls her hand away from his and averts her eyes. He stares at her, trying to process the movement in his mind.

"Lily, what – "

"James." She's just saying his name, but he can detect something in her voice, something he's not sure he wants to hear. "That's not what I meant. It's – it's _us_."

He stares at her helplessly. He feels like he's sinking. He doesn't struggle to float; instead, he looks at her, asking, pleading, _begging_ her to pull him back to the surface again. Finally, she lifts her eyes to his.

"I can't do _us_ anymore."

He's sinking even faster now. He struggles to say something, but he's numb. He can't feel anything.

"Come again?" Maybe he's heard wrong. It's a stupid thought. He knows, and she knows, that he heard her perfectly.

"I'm breaking up with you."

"He's struggling to stay afloat now, kicking and flailing and swimming.

"It's Dorcas," she says, and he can feel the distance between them getting larger and larger. "She's empty. With Mark gone, she – " She sighs. "I can't do this to her. These past three months have been so, so wonderful, and I've never been happier in my life, but I can't do this anymore. I feel terrible, being so happy that I feel like I'm flying, when she used to be the same way, used to have Mark look at her the same way you look at me, only to have him taken away in an instant. I can't walk into the dorm, smiling just because I spent the day with you, only to see her crying over a picture of her and Mark. I – I can't do this, I just can't, not now."

He's so close to drowning, drowning in his love for this girl in front of him. He gives one last kick, one last attempt to reach the surface.

"I love you."

The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them, but he means them with all his heart. He loves her, really loves her, loves her more than life itself. (Except she _is_ his life, so he's not quite sure how that works out.)

"I know," she says quietly. "I love you, too."

He's starting to float. _She loves him_.

"But that's why I can't do this anymore."

He's sinking again, sinking even faster now.

"I love you, James, but I know I could still fall even more in love with you. I don't want to wake up one morning and find out you're dead. I don't want to be like Dorcas, to have everything one moment and gone the next. I'm a selfish, cowardly bitch. I – I want to quit while we're still ahead."

He's so close to drowning, so very close, but he's angry, so he manages to pull himself up for a few moments.

"Don't you say that," he says fiercely, because Lily's anything but cowardly and selfish and bitchy, and even though he's angry and in shock and devastated, he defends her, like he always does, and always will, even when they're old and grey. (He'd always thought that they'd be old and grey _together_, but now that's just a far-away dream, fading away like the last few streaks of red in the sky.)

She smiles sadly, and brings her fingers to his face, cupping his cheek in her hand. He leans into her palm, savouring this, savouring the feel of her hand against his cheek, savouring Lily Evans, because these are the last few moments he's ever going to get of her. She pulls away and walks back to the wooden door. She opens it, and pauses with her hand on the knob.

"Goodbye, James."

The door closes with a click.

He's drowned.

**-&-**

**A/N: I'm not really sure whether I like this one. I was in a weird mood when I wrote it. Please tell me what you think, especially about the drowning comparison. Was it out-of-place? Reviews = chocolate cupcakes! ;D**


	24. can't buy me love

**A/N: As promised, a new drabble! The original version of this was written in my notebook for ages. I typed it up a while ago, re-read it, thought it didn't sound right, tried to fix it, still thought it didn't sound right, deleted it, and started again. I still kept some parts of the original drabble, but I think this version sounds a lot better. Some parts still don't sound right, and I know it's a bit of a letdown after the last drabble, but I hope you guys will still like it.**

**-&-**

_Why do you love Lily Evans? _

James isn't quite sure. In fifth year, he would have said it was her looks, her fiery red hair and deep green eyes, the wild beauty that drew him to her in the first place. In sixth year, it was her perfection: her beauty, her kind heart, her intelligence, her generosity – everything about her was perfect; she was perfect.

_Why do you love Lily Evans? _

But they're in seventh year now, and Lily is Head Girl to his Head Boy. They've moved from their tentative, somewhat shaky truce of sixth year to the light, easy friendship they have now; and he knows that in fifth year he didn't love her - he was just infatuated with her then, because now, he knows that even if Lily was the ugliest-looking person in the world, she'd still be absolutely beautiful to him. In sixth year, he still didn't love her – he put her on a pedestal then, because now, he knows that Lily isn't perfect and she has her flaws, because she's human, just like everyone else.

He loves her now – he's never been surer of anything in his life. But Sirius' question – _Why do you love Lily Evans? - _floats around his mind, repeating itself over and over, like a fly that won't stop bothering him.

_Why do you love Lily Evans? _

He thinks maybe he loves her because of all the good in her. Because of the way she laughs, throwing her head back and dissolving into giggles, and he and everyone else can't help but notice her, because she's so bright and loud and _alive_. Because she put off studying for the Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. in fifth year just to help a first year with his Potions exam. Because she searched Hogsmeade for two whole hours in the middle of a snowstorm just to find the perfect birthday gift for her sister, who didn't even bother to thank her.

_Why do you love Lily Evans? _

But it's not just her good qualities that fascinate him so. Maybe he loves her because of her flaws, irritating and endearing at the same time. Because she can't function properly in the morning unless she's had two cups of coffee. Because she's too stubborn to ask for help until the last possible moment. Because she's far too curious for her own good, following him outside during the full moon and nearly getting bitten by Remus.

_Why do you love Lily Evans? _

Sometimes he thinks that maybe he loves her because of the way she challenges him. Because something about her makes him work to be the best he can be. Because for every snarky comment he has, she has one for an answer. Because no matter what he does, she always has the last word.

_Why do you love Lily Evans?_

It occurs to him that maybe it's everything. Maybe he loves Lily Evans because she's _Lily Evans_, and he loves her because of her perfections and her flaws and the way she makes him feel. Maybe he loves her for everything she is, for the good and the bad and the in-between. Maybe he loves her because she makes him feel like he's on top of the world, but drives him up the bloody wall in order to get there.

_Why do you love Lily Evans? _

Maybe he loves her because although she may not be perfect, she's perfect for _him_, and that's really all that matters.

**-&-**

**A/N: I know it isn't as good as the last one, so tell me what you think! I already gave out some cupcakes last time, so how about a drink of your choice from Starbucks for all those who review? ;D**

**Since the Unknowable Room won't let me upload documents :(, I'm uploading this one here on FFN first. Next drabble will be up as soon as it's written. Next drabble will be written when I have Filipino on Thursday. XD**


	25. only fools rush in

"You're mad, the lot of you," Lily said, panting as the five of them stumbled into the Gryffindor Common Room. "Absolutely mad."

"We're all mad here," Sirius quipped with a Cheshire Cat-like smile.

"Don't worry, Lils," James said, smirking. "You'll be mad too."

"I think I already am," she muttered. "You've all corrupted me."

"It's one of our talents," Peter said proudly, before bidding them all goodnight and heading to the boy's dormitory.

"And if you think kicking Mrs. Norris when Filch was just a corridor away is crazy, you clearly haven't spent enough nights wandering Hogwarts with those two," Remus added wryly, following Peter up the stairs.

Lily just shook her head as she sat on an armchair before the fire, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. Sirius ruffled her hair as he passed by her to their dormitory.

"Don't stay up too late," he said, and Lily could hear his smile.

James walked to stand in front of her chair, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

"Off to bed you go," he said, as she shook her head and ignored his extended hand.

"I'm perfectly fine right here, thank you very much. I'm too tired to go up the stairs."

"If you won't go to your dormitory by yourself, I'll have to bring you up there."

"And how do you propose to do that? You know you can't go up the stairs."

He grinned. "Well, I suppose I'll have to put you on my broom and fly you up there."

Lily laughed, taking his hand and allowing herself to be pulled up. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they walked to the girl's dormitory stairs.

"The sad thing is, I know you would actually do it," she said, leaning into him. "Fly me up the stairs on your broom, I mean. I don't know anyone else who would do something as insane as that. You're mad. Have I told you that?"

"You might've mentioned it once or twice," he grinned, and kissed her softly. "But you love me for it."

"I do, crazily enough," she teased, turning away from him to go up the stairs. "Just proof of how you've managed to corrupt me."

**-&-**

**A/N: please review! :)**


	26. keep breathing

It's five in the morning, and James Potter cannot sleep. He is lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. The early morning air is still, and the silence is deafening after the near-death experience of last night.

It's at times like this, when he's climbed into bed after a day of fighting, when he feels like he can't go on. When it feels so completely useless to fight, to even try to survive, because they're so hopelessly outnumbered and almost certainly doomed to fail. When it seems like there's never going to be an end to the war and destruction and chaos. When the lifeless bodies and weeping families and haunted faces bear down on him, filling his soul with despair.

During the daytime, he's the very picture of optimism. It feels like he's back in the locker room before a big Quidditch match, all smiles and pep talks. He's the one who encourages people, raises their spirits, tells them that it's only a matter of time until the war is won.

(He doesn't believe a word he says, and everyone knows it, but they hold on to his determinedly positive words all the same. They all need something to believe in, something to give them even the façade of hope.)

But it's during the night, when it's dark and quiet and gloomy, that the hopelessness of their situation creeps upon him. It's during the night when he can feel doubt and anxiety and fear gnawing at his heart. Now, despite all his hopefulness and confidence during the day, he hasn't the faintest idea how they'll ever be able to defeat Voldemort, how they'll ever end the war, how they'll even survive for more than a month.

There's an undeniable tension in the air during Order meetings, when they argue about strategies and logistics and the lack of new members. The death toll is steadily rising, and most people are too scared to join the Order. Dumbledore's almost sure of a spy in their ranks. James pretends that he can't – that he won't – believe that any friend of his could betray him like that, but as his eyes trace imaginary patterns on the ceiling, he feels like he can't even trust his best mates.

(It's Remus, his mind says, and he feels nauseous just thinking about it. How could quiet, kind Remus ever betray them? But Remus has been disappearing lately, showing up at meetings irregularly with no explanations for his absence, and James doesn't know what else to think.)

If the Order of the Phoenix, the only icon of hope and faith in a time of death and destruction, was slowly crumbling, then how were they to ever win this war? _These are hard times for dreamers_, he thinks, and then wonders how anyone could dream of things being happy again. The future, bleak and desolate, is looming upon them, and they're utterly powerless to do anything about it. All their efforts, their struggles, their rebellion – all of it is worthless, in the end. _Resistance is futile._

He hasn't realised that he's been tossing and turning, waking Lily in the process. She wraps her fingers around his, almost unconsciously, looking up at him with sleepy eyes. She moves closer to him, pressing a kiss to his jaw before laying her head on his chest. They lie there, fingers entwined, their breathing synchronized. And as the first traces of the sunrise shine into the room, he begins to think that, maybe everything's going to be alright in the end, as long as she's with him.

**-&-**

**A/N: Sorry for not posting for a while! Exams are next week, so things have been pretty busy. Anyway, could you please answer a few questions in your review?**

**Do you think I've improved since the first drabble? And out of all the twenty six drabbles I've posted so far, which is/are your favourite(s)? **

**Thanks! :)**


	27. as lovers go

One of the things that James Potter had observed about Lily Evans was that she was forever writing on herself. She would scribble notes and draw shapes with a ballpoint pen, ignoring the disapproving looks of teachers and her bemused classmates. Her arm was almost always covered with blue ink.

Sometimes she would jot down reminders to write a Potions essay or to ask Professor McGonagall a question about the day's lecture. Other times she would absent-mindedly write a line from a song or a verse from a poem. Often her arm was full of simple doodles: a stick figure, a star, a smiley face.

She was writing on the back of her hand when he approached her to ask about patrol schedules. He peeked over her shoulder, trying to make out what she had written.

_James Potter + Lily Evans_

He didn't realise that he had read it out loud until her hair hit him in the face as she spun around to face him. When she saw him, she looked away resolutely, cheeks burning. Smiling, he took the pen from her, drew a heart beside their names, and kissed it.

**-&-**

**A/N: **I know it's choppy, but I finished my last exam a while ago, so this is a victory drabble of sorts. Please review and let me know what you think! :)

_As Lovers Go (_by Dashboard Confessional) is what I used as my title, because it was what I was listening to while writing this. If you haven't heard the song yet, check it out. It's almost as if it was written for James and Lily. :)


	28. the wind blows like open minds

**A/N: I come bearing four drabbles. Lyrics at the bottom and title are by the Sugarbabes. Please review. Enjoy!**

**-&-**

You're brushing your hair in front of the mirror in the Common Room when he calls your name. You turn around, fighting the smile that twitches at the corners of your mouth. James Potter is not quite as arrogant as he was in fifth year, but he's still as persistent as ever. It just doesn't bother you now as it did before.

"Fancy a drink in the Three Broomsticks tomorrow?" He asks, hands in his pockets and a grin on his face.

"No, thanks," you say for the third time that week, a little haughtily, although you both know you don't really mean it.

"You'll give in someday, Evans," he says confidently, not at all discouraged by yet another rejection. He never is, and you admire him for it.

"Someday in another lifetime, Potter," you reply with a roll of your eyes, before turning back to face your reflection.

His eyes meet yours in the mirror. Both of you are smiling.

_I didn't wanna fall in love with you_

_I didn't wanna know the things I knew_

_It wasn't 'til I looked into the mirror_

_Denial_


	29. this love is difficult

"Lily!"

She keeps on walking, trying her best to ignore his calls. It's not that she doesn't want to talk to him – she does, _oh, she does_. But the thought of telling him that he's come to be more than just a friend to her when she's only just admitted it to herself terrifies her, and so she keeps on walking.

He grabs her wrist and pulls her to face him, breathing heavily.

"Sorry, but I've got to do that Transfiguration essay – "

"So you're just going to avoid me for the rest of the year?"

She flushes, tugging her arm away and turning around to go. "Don't be daft, James. I'm not avoiding you."

"Then why are you running away again?"

And though she desperately wants to stop, turn around, and tell him everything, she doesn't. She just keeps on walking.


	30. but it's real

**A/N: Continuation of the last drabble. Lyrics at the bottom are from As Lovers Go, by Dashboard Confessional, again.**

_**-&-**_

"Lily?"

She looks up from her book, startled, and sees him. Flushing, she gets up to leave. He grits his teeth – he'll be damned if he lets her walk away again – and plants himself in her path, putting a hand on her shoulder. She stares at the ground.

"The thing is," he says, and she looks up, "I'm not stupid. I know something's changed. You've been avoiding me for the past few days."

He takes a deep breath, looks straight into her eyes. "See, you're brilliant and bubbly and beautiful and – and some other word that starts with a B that I can't think of at the moment – but the question is, are you brave enough to take this step? To forget every stupid row we've had and just be with me?"

He extends his hand to her, waiting for her to take the first step. She does, moving forward hesitantly, and places her hand in his.

_You've got wits, you've got looks, you've got passion_

_But are you brave enough to leave with me tonight?_


	31. always something there to remind me

"You shine like gold in the air of summer."

Utter silence followed this solemn pronouncement. Lily looked up, blinking.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Was that meant to be poetic?"

James shrugged. "You're a song written by the hands of God."

She sighed. "James."

"You make me forget how to breathe."

"In case you've forgotten, you've already got the girl. So there's no need for pick-up lines."

He broke into a grin, collapsing next to her on the couch. "Maybe so, but tell me that didn't make your heart beat a little faster."

**-&-**

**A/N: And that concludes my drabble-posting spree. They're not really that good, but I enjoyed writing them and I hope you guys enjoyed reading them too. For those of you who also read Spin, I'm very sorry for not meeting my Chapter 6 deadline. The reason for the delay is a combination of school projects and procrastination. I just read through what I wrote of Chapter 6 and it still needs a lot of editing - I swear it'll be up before the end of September. Again, I'm so sorry.**

**Please review! :)**


	32. frozen things, they all unfreeze

**A/N: Sorry for the lack of updates. I'm drowning in schoolwork. I hope you all enjoy this drabble, I've had the idea for a while but just got down to writing it today. The lyrics at the bottom and the title are from the fantastic song _Bruises_ by Chairlift. Please review! :)**

**-&-**

James Potter was doing a handstand.

This fact went largely unnoticed by the population of Hogwarts, quite used to the Marauders' antics. James Potter holding himself up with his palms in the Great Hall was not a particularly exciting event, especially since breakfast was just a few feet away.

But Lily Evans, staring at him from the entrance to the Great Hall, was transfixed. She walked over to him, curious.

As soon as James spotted her, his arms gave in. He lay on the floor, grinning at her, his limbs tangled.

"What exactly were you trying to do?" She inquired pleasantly, watching him straighten his glasses.

"I was trying to do handstands for you," he replied. "But I fell for you, you see."

She laughed, turned to walk away. He stared at her, defeated. With a sigh, he ran his hand through his hair and made to stand. She turned around, a smile on her lips, grabbed his hand, and helped him up.

**-&-**

_I tried to do handstands for you_

_But everytime I fell for you_

_I'm permanently black and blue_

_Permanently blue for you_


	33. there is a light that never goes out

**A/N: **I'm back! :) I'm sorry for my incredibly long hiatus. Here's my latest drabble. The title is from the song by The Smiths, because it's the song I was listening to when I wrote this. :)

**-&-**

"When I get married," she says suddenly as they walk down the corridor, "it's going to be in a park."

"A park," he repeats, amused, not even surprised at her random declaration. After three months of being Head Boy to Lily Evans' Head Girl and spending hours of patrol in deep conversation with her, he's well aware of her tendency to say whatever's passing through her mind out loud.

He's also well aware of her other odd quirks, such as her addiction to sugar quills and the way she eats chocolate ice cream on the Astronomy Tower when she's stressed. And although they make her rather different from the completely-in-control girl he thought she was for six years, he thinks that he likes her all the more for it.

"Not just any park!" she adds excitedly. "It has to be at the park near my house. I used to go there all the time. It has this pavilion that's large and white and just absolutely perfect for a wedding."

"Sounds brilliant," he says, smiling at her enthusiasm.

"I'm going to have the reception in the same place as well," she continues, a mischievous grin creeping onto her face. "And all my friends – and that includes you, James Potter – will have to sing for me."

"I'll scare away all your guests if I do," he warns her, before asking, "So you don't want a grand church wedding?"

"No," she replies. "I want a wedding that simple and meaningful and beautiful, and I think the pavilion at the park near my house is the perfect place for that."

"So if you could be married anywhere in the world, anywhere at all, it would be – "

"In the pavilion at the park near my house," she says firmly, with a smile.

They walk in silence for a few more moments before she asks, "And you? If you could get married anywhere in the world, anywhere at all, where would it be?"

He stops walking and turns to face her. His smile is soft; his eyes earnest.

"In the pavilion at the park near your house," he says. "Beside you."

**-&-**

**A/N: **Hope you liked it! I also have a one-shot that's similar to my other one-shot Why I Hate Arithmancy. It's finished, but the problem is, I typed it out in my phone, and I'm trying to figure out a way to transfer it to my computer that doesn't involve e-mail. Anyway, as soon as I figure it out, I'll post it. But for now, a very happy Christmas to you all! Enjoy the holidays! :)


	34. suddenly i'm not so young

As the green light rushes towards him, James does not think of trying to dodge it or repel it. He knows that this, his death, the death he and Lily have been hiding from for months now, is inevitable. In that split second after Voldemort laughs and waves his wand, James can only think of one thing.

Lily.

What was it that he had said to her on Sirius' birthday back in seventh year, when he was intoxicated with Firewhiskey and the feel of her fingers laced with his? _You make me think that maybe I won't die alone_. She had laughed, a little too loudly – she was drunk as well, though not nearly as drunk as James – and promised that he wouldn't.

And in that split second before the light – the same colour as her eyes, yet so different – hits him, James thinks of the way her red hair shines in the sun, the way she always smells like rain and lilies, the way she stays up late just to finish reading a book, the way she insists on cooking the Muggle way even though it'd be so much easier to use magic. He thinks of her, thinks of their son. He imagines the three of them together, away from this war and all the sadness and death that accompanies it, happy and free.

And he thinks: _No, I won't die alone._

**-&-**

**A/N: **_(_Ingrid Michaelson for the title.) And after yet another long absence, I'm back! This is the first of three drabbles I'm uploading today. I'm sorry if it's awkwardly written, I'm a bit rusty. This drabble is dedicated to LilyAndJamesAreForever, who reviewed all of my drabbles and has an awesome drabble collection of her own. :) (She also sort of inadvertently guilted me into starting to write again. Thank you! I needed that.)


	35. when will i feel soft inside?

_You say that my skin feels like no one else's_

_That it's different somehow_

_But I don't understand, isn't a hand just a hand?_

_No, you don't understand._

**-&-**

"I've changed, Lily!" he says, pleading. "I don't go around hexing innocents in the corridor anymore. I don't fall asleep in class. I'm even nice to first year Slytherins!"

She looks up at him, a sad smile on her lips. "I know, James," she says gently, as if talking softly will lessen the blow. "And it's great, it really is."

"So why won't you go out with me?" he cries in frustration. "One date, that's all I'm asking. One date, and after that, if you want, you can ignore me."

"It's not you, it's me," she whispers, hating herself for using such a clichéd line. "And I know that sounds like bullshit, that it sounds like an excuse to reject you. But it's not. You don't want me, James. You want the idea of me; you want the beautiful, smart Head Girl who everyone looks up to. But I'm not who you think I am, who everyone thinks I am. I'm really a screwed up cynic who runs away from her problems. You don't want me."

She pauses for a moment, sighing. "You should listen to Alice. _She says you're a masochist for falling for me_."

"Maybe I am," he replies stubbornly. "And maybe you really are everything you say you are. But I don't bloody care. D'you know how many times I've been rejected by you, Lily? But look, I'm still here, like I've always been – I'm just waiting for you to realise it!" His hazel eyes are boring into her own. "We're so close, Lily, so close. Please."

She closes her eyes, not wanting to see his eyes anymore. "I can't. I can't just open myself up emotionally to someone, even if I want to. I – I just can't."

His hand is on her cheek. "Please," he whispers, and she can hear the pain in his voice.

She takes a deep breath and shakes her head slowly. "I can't. I'm sorry. I can't."

A second later, the warmth of his palm is gone, but she can still feel it there, like dying embers, a reminder of a fire that her cold, hard heart could have used.

**-&-**

**A/N: **_A bit ehh, but I tried. _Ingrid Michaelson (again) for the title and the lyrics up there. Oh, and the part where Lily says, "She says you're a masochist for falling for me" is a line from the same song I took the title and lyrics from - Masochist. :) Somewhat inspired by "This Lullaby", by Sarah Dessen - an awesome book. :D


	36. the war is won

_And so it goes, this soldier knows_

_The battle with the heart isn't easily won_

_But it can be won_

**-&-**

It's late October, and Lily Evans has just agreed to marry James Potter.

The woman in question is sleeping, lovingly covered with a blanket by her new fiancé, her red hair splayed out over her pillow.

This very same fiancé is across the street at a pub, having a celebratory drink (or five) with his mates.

Needless to say, they are very drunk.

"To James and Lily!" Sirius Black, James Potter's best friend, shouts for the eighth time, holding up his glass. "Cheers!"

The four friends clink their glasses together and down their drinks. James signals to the bartender for another round.

"I reckon I've had enough," Remus Lupin says, slurring his words. "My hangover's going t'be bad enough without another drink."

"Live a little, Moony!" Peter Pettigrew says, clutching the table in an effort to sit up straight. "Our Prongsie's just won a war!"

"The greatest war since… er, the last greatest war!" Sirius adds. "The battle for Lily Evans' heart!"

"He's a soldier!" Peter tells Remus, who is still struggling to process their words through his alcohol-induced haze.

"A soldier!" James repeats, tuning into their conversation. "Wait, I'm a soldier?"

"A soldier!" Peter shouts.

"Indeed!" Sirius chimes in. "A soldier for all men in pursuit of unattainable women!"

"A soldier for the battle of the heart!"

"Everyone thought it was impossible!" Peter cries. "Lily Evans, agree to marry James Potter? Impossible! But he proved them wrong! He did it!"

(It would be a good time to point out that when the Marauders are drunk, there is an abundance of exclamation points in their dialogue.)

"The battle of the heart is not easily won, my friend," Sirius says to James. "But you have proven that it can be won!"

"You and Lily will marry, and have ten kids, and live until two hundred," Peter says. "And be a beacon of hope for all the blokes in the world who despair of ever getting a girl!"

James snorts. "Ten kids?" he says, because really, that's the most ridiculous part. "Lily'd never stand for it. Impossible."

Their drinks arrive. Remus contemplates whether another drink will really worsen his hangover the next morning. He shrugs, grabs a glass, and says, "Lily Evans just agreed to marry James Potter. Anything's possible."

**-&-**

**A/N:**(Ingrid Michaelson again for the title and lyrics above.) Just experimenting with a different style. What'd you guys think? :)


	37. anyone else but you

_She is a quiet woman,_

_And her love fills me from a thousand miles._

_She is a small woman, a strong woman,_

_And in her strength is wisdom I long to possess._

_She might be hurt, but would never hurt another._

_She is real._

**-&-**

"Why me?"

James looked up from his lunch to see his girlfriend slide in the seat beside him. He raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, why you?"

"Why do you fancy _me_?" Lily asked, picking up his pumpkin juice and drinking from it. She looked at him over the top of the glass. "There are plenty of other girls in school who would love to be your girlfriend. Clarissa Stewart, for example." She nodded towards the blonde Ravenclaw, who was sending James none-too-subtle flirtatious looks from across the Great Hall.

"Why the hell would I want Clarissa Stewart?" James asked incredulously, not even turning to look at the girl properly.

"James." Lily said, a hint of exasperation in her voice. She put down the glass. "She's gorgeous. And it's not like she's an empty-headed tart. She's _smart_."

"Well, so are you," he pointed out with a smile.

She laughed, grabbing his hand and squeezing it in thanks. "But Clarissa's just… I dunno, _more_. She's like a goddess, or something. She never has bad hair days, she's nice, she's witty, and I actually like her when she's not trying to flirt with you. She's as close to perfect as you could get, and she makes it look _easy_."

She finished with a dramatic sigh, looking at James expectantly, waiting for him to roll his eyes and tell her to stop being so silly. But he stayed silent, just staring at her.

"James?" she asked, squirming a little under his gaze.

"The thing is," he said finally, his voice earnest, "I don't want perfect. I don't want a robot. I want a girl who'll never stop surprising me with her barmy routines and her nervous habits and her weird opinions. I want a girl with flaws, a girl just as human as me. I want a girl who's addicted to Sugar Quills and lives on coffee. I want a girl who stays up insanely late just to count the stars and then bitches about her lack of sleep in the morning. I want a girl who skives off Head duties to eat pie with me in the kitchens. I want you, Lils. Just you." He paused, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Maybe she is perfect," he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead, "but you're _real_, and so much more beautiful for it."

**-&-**

**A/N: This is a rewrite! I wasn't happy with the original drabble, so I rewrote it.**

**Dedicated to Chynna (Random_Gal930). ;D The Moldy Peaches for the title. I don't know who said the quote up there, and Google's not being helpful, so if you know who said it, please tell me so I can quote it properly. Reviews are appreciated. :)  
**


	38. all around me reflections of you

He needs to sleep.

He's tried practically everything. He's taken a bubble bath, drunk warm milk, counted backwards, counted hippogriffs, forced himself to yawn, visualized one of his Great Aunt Mae's boring tea parties, read his History of Magic textbook, practiced deep breathing - hell, he even had his wireless on the Rest and Relaxation Station before the repetitive, supposedly calming music drove him mad and he ended up using _Reducto_ on it.

But nothing's working, not now, not tonight, not when Lily Evans's just broken up with him and the only reason he hasn't completely broken down yet is that he's still in shock. As it is, he can already feel it sinking in, seeping through his shield of denial, threatening to wash away what little control he still has.

Sighing, he gets out of bed quietly, planning to get a Sleeping Draught from the Hospital Wing. He needs to escape for a few hours, needs to delay facing reality and a future without her. As he steps out of the dorm, he spots a neatly folded Gryffindor jumper sitting beside the door. He picks it up and runs his hand across the soft, worn fabric, recognizing it as the one Lily borrowed from him a few months ago.

And even though he knows it's sad and pathetic and quite possibly masochistic, he re-enters his dorm and lies back down on his bed, pressing his face to the jumper and breathing in the rain-and-lilies scent that can only be hers. The Remus in his head tells him that this kind of self-indulgence is probably going to make everything worse in the morning, but he doesn't care.

He can't find it in himself to care, not now, not tonight, not when Lily Evans's just broken up with him and the only reason he hasn't completely broken down yet is that her familiar smell is slowly making him drift off to sleep.

**-&-**

**A/N: As my summer holidays have (finally)**** started, this is a celebratory piece of sorts. Although I didn't originally mean for it to be so, this is a sequel of sorts to drabble #23, _drowning in your eyes_. It's a little rough, but I hope you all like it. Please review! :)**

******Also, my updates won't be so frequent because our Internet connection at home's busted and I don't know when it'll be fixed. When I do add drabbles, though, I'll try to do it in bulk. :)**


	39. rollercoaster kind of rush

You walk down the hall, arm-in-arm with Mary. She's talking about her family's disastrous Christmas party, and though you nod and smile sympathetically in all the right places, you're really only half-listening as your eyes roam the noisy corridor, scanning the crowd.

You see him standing by the Arithmancy classroom. His back is to you as he waits for his friends, but you'd recognize his messy black hair anywhere. You keep your gaze on him as you move closer, and he turns his head as if sensing it.

Your eyes meet. The intensity in his makes you stumble a little, and you can feel yourself blushing. He smiles, and it's that crooked grin of his that never fails to make your stomach flutter. You smile in return, ignoring your suddenly dry throat, and turn back to Mary.

You can still feel his eyes on you, even as you walk past him; and as you turn the corner, there's a skip in your step that wasn't there before.

_a lump in your throat, a knot in your stomach, a skip in your step_

**A/N: Taylor Swift for the title. This has gone through about ten rewrites, and I'm still not happy with it. But let me know what you guys think. :)**


	40. we had fire in our eyes

He loves infuriating her.

He loves the way her eyes smoulder and her nostrils flare and her cheeks flush; loves the way she marches right up to him, so close that their noses almost touch; loves the way she suddenly seems so much larger than her small frame, so much larger than _life_.

He loves the adrenaline rush; loves how it's like flying, exhilarating and heart-pounding and breathtaking; loves how much more _alive_ he feels, as if their verbal sparring is actual swordplay; loves how she can challenge him and keep him on his toes and match all his quips with her own sharp wit, an endless battle over who gets the last word.

He loves the fact that it's the only time he ever sees her truly lose all the restraint she has; loves how she loses control and the prefect attitude she has on most of the time; loves the way she just lets loose and lets the world see the red-headed temper that she tries to control.

He especially loves that it's him who causes it; loves that he's the only one who can wind her up like this, can push her like no one else can; loves that she blocks everyone else out when they row so that he's the only other person in the world to her.

(More than anything, he loves being the only other person in the world to her.)

**A/N: Three Days Grace for the title. Sorry for the semicolon abuse. I'm experimenting again. The ending's abrupt, but I tried. Review and let me know what you think! :)**

**(Internet's fixed! It's choppy and slow as hell, though. Sorry for the lack of updates - you can blame it on my poor time management skills. I've taken on too many things at once.)**


	41. the world has folded in your heart

Some days Lily thinks that she can't bear it. The war looms over them, casting a dark shadow over everything, and sometimes she feels like Atlas, trying to hold up the sky. It's days like these, when it's cold and overcast and so dark that it seems like it'll never be bright again, that all the doubts and fears and anxiety she hides behind her confident smile come to haunt her.

It's so _stupid_, having a child now, when she's still practically a child herself and when Voldemort is at his most dangerous; and although she doesn't regret her decision – she could never regret Harry, _never_ – she's scared.

She's always thought of herself as a competent, capable witch, but as she stares at her son, fingers lingering on his cheek, she's never felt so helpless. She can barely protect herself, she can't protect her friends – her hand freezes on Harry's face as she thinks of Marlene; her body never found, probably one of the many soulless slaves of the Death Eaters – she can't protect the wizarding world, despite her and the Order's best efforts – how can she protect a child too young to even talk?

The door to the bedroom opens as she kisses her son on the forehead, the closest thing to a prayer she has the faith to make. James walks in, a smile on his face, and suddenly the world doesn't seem so dark. He moves forward and kisses her slowly, tender and untroubled and lingering, as if they didn't have a funeral to go to in five minutes, as if there wasn't a war, as if they didn't have the weight of the world on their shoulders.

And for a moment, she doesn't. The sky is nothing, not when she's in his arms.

**A/N: **Title (and musical inspiration) is from Remy Zero. A huge thank you to my sister (**runaway memories**) for Beta-ing all of my drabbles and for not strangling me when I obsess (loudly, and at length) over whether they flow well. Anyway, reviews are always welcomed and appreciated. :)


	42. charm about you will carry me through

"James Potter, you are absolutely incorrigible!"

James didn't even open his eyes as Lily all but stomped to the tree he was lying under. Instead, he smiled, waving his hand lazily in a dismissive manner.

"Git had it coming," he said.

"Michael? Because he asked me to Hogsmeade? I didn't even say yes – "

He cracked one eye open. "I bloody well hope not – "

She flushed a little, continuing, "Honestly, James, was it _really_ necessary to hex him?"

"Lily," he said, opening both his eyes and sitting up, looking at her earnestly. "It's a matter of _dignity_."

She rolled her eyes and dropped her bag on the ground, seating herself cross-legged beside him. "As much as I appreciate you defending my honour – "

"Who said anything about _your_ honour?" James asked with a smirk. "I was protecting _my_ reputation. Imagine if word got round that I did nothing when some wanker asked out my girlfriend – even if she did say no! The shame! Merlin, Lils, I'd be _ruined_."

He grinned at her, and though she rolled her eyes again at his mock-dramatic speech, the corners of her mouth were twitching upwards.

"You're a prat," she said.

"He's a bigger one," he replied instantly. "Asking you out when you're clearly taken – not on."

"At least he didn't hex anyone," she said, looking at him pointedly. "And he's a sweetheart, really."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "You're going with _me _to Hogsmeade."

"I could still change my mind."

"You wouldn't."

"I dunno, James," she said teasingly. "Jealousy is terribly unattractive."

"Nothing about me is unattractive!" James declared. "I am the very epitome of attractive."

"And of conceited as well," she added dryly.

"Aren't you supposed to be my kind, loving, caring, _supportive_ girlfriend?" he asked, putting a hand to his heart.

"For your information," she said, with another roll of her eyes, "I've already done my Girlfriend Good Deed of the Day. I've apologized to both Michael and McGonagall on your behalf." She smirked. "Speaking of which – I hope whatever satisfaction you got from hexing Michael is worth a week of detention."

James laughed and wrapped his arm around her. "You being all mine is worth a lifetime of detentions, Lily."

* * *

**A/N: **Written during CL today in a fit of inspiration. It's been a while since I've written in past tense. Reviews and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated, as always. :) Credit goes to Irving Berlin for the title.

This is dedicated to Ela (never-ending nights with you), a fantastic writer and an even better friend, for her birthday. Happy birthday, Ela! I hope you have a great one! :D (And this isn't your birthday fic yet. I just wanted to give you (or at least dedicate to you) something on the exact day.)


	43. i was so lost but now i believe

He's Little-Miss-Sunshine on his best days, and guardedly optimistic on his worst. He's bright and cheerful and unfailingly positive, and Lily loves him for it.

_We won't lose_, he says at Order meetings, the arrogance she so abhorred in him turned into calm confidence. _It's tough, yeah, but we'll come out in the end._

The others stare at him – sadly, hesitantly, incredulously – shaking their heads and rolling their eyes. But she smiles, one hand in his and the other on the slight swell of her belly.

She knows that they might not (probably will not) survive this; but when he says it, his eyes bright behind his glasses and his thumb rubbing circles into the back of her hand, sunny days and carefree laughter don't seem so far away anymore.

He makes her believe again, if only for a moment.

* * *

**A/N: **Title from Dashboard Confessional. I'm back. :)


	44. setting suns and lonely lovers

There's so much else to focus on in the Three Broomsticks – the clink of bottles coming from the bar, the overpowering cologne of the bloke behind him, the soft curve of his date's mouth – but all he can think about is _her_.

He tries, really; but it's like his senses are attuned to her. Every time he starts to tune into Carrie's story, every time he starts to forget about Lily's presence (well, as much as you can forget about someone whose name always seems to be on the tip of your tongue), he'll see her hair out of the corner of his eye, or pick out her laugh from the hum of voices, or look into Carrie's eyes and notice (again) that they're the entirely wrong shade of green, too light and too dark, too un-Lily-like; and then he's back to square one, if he ever even left it in the first place.

(He's fairly sure he hasn't, if the fact that he thinks he can smell her rain-and-lilies scent from the other side of the bloody pub is any indication.)

But hell, he must be moving up the ladder, because he's actually managed a joke, and Carrie's laughing, and – and Lily and her date are walking past their table, holding hands, and she doesn't even _notice_ James.

He stares after them, Carrie forgotten (he's slid so far down that he's not even on the board anymore). He thinks he must be masochistic, because despite the lump that's decided to lodge itself in his throat at the sight, he just can't look away.

The Date is tucking Lily's hair behind her ear. She's smiling up at him, her (entirely right shade of) green eyes bright, and whatever breath (and hope) James has left just disappears. Because god, she's beautiful, and untouchable, and he's so far gone that he doesn't even know if he hates the other bloke – James should be the one beside her, touching her, but how can he hate anyone who can make her smile like that?

And then they're gone, the perfect couple walking out into the sunset; and he turns back to Carrie, whose mouth is twisted in a way that's knowing and amused and sad all at once. He sighs, runs a hand through his hair; feels a pang of something because Carrie's clever and witty and gorgeous, (almost) exactly his type, and maybe in a world where Lily didn't exist, her eyes would be just right and his hand would be running through _her_ hair and her mouth would be twisted in a completely different way.

(The pang grows even worse at the thought of a world where Lily doesn't exist.)

He stands up, makes his excuses. And then he's gone, the heartbroken loser stumbling out into a storm of endless grey and the entirely wrong shade of green.

* * *

**A/N: **Title from Sugarloaf. Dedicated to Chynna (PixxieHolloww) for her birthday on the thirtieth. I love you, Beijing. :)

I wrote this today and I'm happy with how it turned out, so I hope you guys like it too (and ignore all my run-on sentences and overuse of parentheses). I'd love to know what y'all think. ;D (winkwinknudgenudge)


	45. oh, what a lovely way to burn

**A/N: Again - and I'm beginning to sound like a broken record here, I know - I'm sorry for the lack of updates. Ho-hum, junior year. Title and inspiration comes from Elvis Presley's "Fever", which I listened to on repeat while writing this. Hope you guys like it! :)**

* * *

It feels so intimate, the way he says your name. His lips curve around the word, pronouncing it in the quiet, confident tone you've come to associate him with, his eyes blazing with an emotion you can't (won't) put a name to, and you shiver.

They're just two syllables, but when you think about it — and you have, a lot more than you'd care to admit — they're two syllables that _define_ you. And you hear that, hear the momentous, earth-shattering fact of your very existence, whenever he says them.

That scares you, confuses you, makes you feel oddly warm inside. It's a slow fire pooling in the pit of your stomach, spreading through your veins and dancing across your skin, a fever running throughout your body. Your neck, your ears, your cheeks flush (and you swear even your hair feels redder) and you've never felt so _alive_.

It should feel like a betrayal, this instinctive, unconscious reaction to the utterance of your name by a man you've only learned to get along with this year, but it's awfully hard to resent something that feels like a hug from your best friend and butterbeer on a rainy day and sleeping in on a Sunday.

(That emotion in his eyes? It's contagious.)


	46. love comes easy with you

**Title and lyrics by Tom Felton.**

* * *

'_cause I live to get lost in lazy afternoons with you  
and what I'd give for any cause to turn a day into a few._

The fire crackles in its hearth, its dancing flames casting shadows across the various Gryffindors laying about the common room, driven indoors by the raging storm outside. She moves closer to him with a sigh, and he presses an absent kiss to her temple, his hand finding hers in the semi-darkness, fingers tracing swirling patterns on her wrist.

"I still have to finish that Defense essay," he says as he leans back against the sofa, his voice a low murmur she can barely hear over the hum of conversation and the steady roar of the downpour outside.

"Go do it now," she says, stifling a yawn. "We've still got an hour before dinner."

"Can't be arsed to move," he tells her, his eyes half-closed behind his glasses.

She rolls her eyes. "If you have to miss Hogsmeade this weekend because you're busy catching up on schoolwork —"

"I can finish that essay in half an hour," he scoffs, mouth quirking up as he continues, "And while normally I would gladly sacrifice an afternoon of Hogsmeade fun for the pursuit of academic perfection, it's the last Hogsmeade weekend before the holidays, and I haven't done a bit of Christmas shopping yet."

She rests her head on his shoulder and, unable to hold it in, yawns. "I would pretend to be surprised at that, but I can't seem to find the energy."

He kisses her hair, his laughter tickling her cheek. "I know _you've_ been done for ages," he says, "So you're helping me. You know I'm rubbish at presents."

"You seem to have managed quite well without me for the past six years." Her eyes drift shut.

"Don't tell anyone," he whispers in her ear, "But my mother is very good at that sort of thing." She giggles, and he continues, "Let's give her a break this year, yeah? She'll only need to help me with your present, although we could do away with that as well if you tell me what you want."

She smirks. "Sugar quills."

"I can buy you sugar quills any day, love."

"Christmas _is_ just a day," she teases, curling her legs under her.

He groans. "C'mon, Lils, you've got to want_ something_ special…"

She smiles to herself, snuggling closer to him as he continues, throwing out suggestions of dress robes and first edition books and jewellery. Later she'll give in and allow him to buy her something ridiculously extravagant, but, truth is, she doesn't want anything else — all she needs is this: quiet laughter and tangled fingers and sleepy kisses; a lifetime of lazy afternoons with him.


	47. hey girl, you've got a fine laugh

**A/N: Lyrics and title by Dashboard Confessional. Sorry for not updating again! My family and I just vacationed in the States and I've been busy studying for college entrance exams. Please let me know what you all thought and review! :)**

* * *

_Hey girl, you've got a smart way about you that makes me wish that I was smart enough for you  
And I've got designs on lighting you up and setting you off and watching you burn for me._

She's a whirlwind of red hair and cheeky wit and fire so bright it takes his breath away, and it's all he can do to keep up with her. She keeps on his toes like no one else can; teases him, challenges him, makes him _think_, gives him a little of that flame he so loves in her.

He's fascinated by her. Not just by her looks — although he can sometimes lose a whole minute just watching the way her mouth moves — but by the little things, by the mess of contradictions and odd habits and fears and hopes and dreams that make her _her_: her love for history books, her way of picking out melodies on her guitar when she's bored and listless, her insistence on making neat, organized lists that she's guaranteed to lose by the next day.

On lazy weekends, he drags her out to the big beech tree by the lake and spends hours watching her, talking to her, _listening _to her. She's usually full of something to say — her recounting of the fight in the Charms corridor the other day; her latest letter from home; her goal to find a way to combine the best of Muggle medicine and Wizarding Healing — and on the rare occasion that she's not, he's always ready to comment or to ask. His prompts always spark something in her, and within moments, she's off again, explaining how her Muggle record player works or comparing the rules of football and Quidditch. He drinks it all in, eagerly, watching her wrap her arms around her knees, her eyes alight and her voice a steady stream of music, and he's such a sap but he really thinks he could spend forever with her like this.

He'll never completely understand her, never know enough about her, never get enough of her, but that's alright — he's content to just spend the rest of his life (of their life) trying.


	48. this is the sound of settling

You're convinced that your boyfriend is the sweetest bloke in the world. He's kind, he's caring, he's considerate; he gives you flowers and chocolates, he carries your things while he walks you to class; in the mornings, he's always waiting for you at the foot of the girls' staircase. He showers you with endless presents and compliments, and is always there with a willing ear when you need to rant (which is pretty much every day, to tell the truth).

That's why it irks you, what your friends say about him. It's not that they don't like Mark as a person — honestly, he's so nice, you can't see how anyone couldn't — but apparently, the two of you aren't _right_ together. Which is ridiculous. You've never been with anyone better, and not for lack of trying. You've had your fair share of boyfriends, most of them perfectly awful, and you'd honestly been about to just write them off altogether when Mark came along. And ever since then, things have been… things have been good. Mostly.

Well, yeah, maybe he doesn't make you laugh like Ja — like certain other people do. Maybe sometimes you wish he'd be a little more spontaneous and stop planning every single minute of your dates and sneak out after curfew with you like Ja — certain other people do. And maybe once in a while — just a few times, really — when he's being particularly… _attentive_, you can kind of sort of understand where your mates are coming from when they say that he's too attached to you. Not that you agree with them at all, definitely not. Just that you can see how his actions _might_ be misconstrued as clingy.

They're not, of course. Mark's not _clingy_. He has his faults, yeah, but so do you. And if it's not exactly cloud nine — well, it's not supposed to be perfect. It's all part of a normal, healthy relationship, accepting each other, flaws and all, and sticking with each other even through brief (_very_ brief) moments of slight unhappiness. The important thing is that he treats you well, and he does. He treats you like a goddess, actually. (That's much more than you could say for Ja — certain other people, if _they_ were your boyfriend instead. They'd tease you, and pull pranks on you, and poke and prod and rile you up just for the fun of fighting and then making up with you. And you and _Mark_ are supposed to be dysfunctional?)

Most importantly, Mark loves you. And you… well, you're not quite there _yet_, but that'll come in time, you're sure of it. He knows this. And he's still willing to wait, because he's patient and loving and thoughtful. He's good for you. He's the sweetest bloke in the world, and you're happy with him.

(Aren't you?)

* * *

**A/N: For anyone who has ever settled for something when they know they could have something better. **

**It's not my best, but it's late at night and I'm experimenting with style again. ****Title from Death Cab for Cutie. Reviews are always appreciated. :)**


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